Spiderboy

thirty four

my parents worried about me, and they wanted to protect me. That was always their biggest concern. Because they knew that the world could be harsh. Did that mean I was dangerous? And then I was two, and I cut my finger on a thorn. I burst into tears, and the thorn bush was swallowed into the ground, leaving only purple flower behind. I was four, and accidently setting fire to a man's hair. But it was his own fault, he picked up my teddy bear, which he dropped immediately, and the fire faded away. I was happy again. I fell out of my friends tree house. The wind swirled around my five year old self and I floated gently to the ground. Leaving a purple aura around me. I didn't notice anything was different, neither did she. I scrambled across the floor to hug mum as she came through the front door, aqua eyes twinkling. We were sitting in front of the Christmas tree, dads arm around mum and Uncle Jack trying to catch malteaser in his mouth to entertain me. I had bitten into a lollipop and my wobbly tooth came out. And I was running, faster than I should, streaking across the finish line and whooping with glee. first place, and no one knew why. I had my hands on mums tummy, swollen at six months pregnant, feeling someone inside kicking. And now I was in a waiting room, a baby girl in my arms, I had a sister now. Things began to flash faster, my first day of school, when I tripped and grazed my knee, breaking a vase because I was playing with a bat I had gotten for my eleventh birthday. There was turkey balloons at the thanksgiving parade, and I was sitting in front of a pink cake, then I was in a car, crying as the city was evacuated, with a hole in the sky and huge, strange, alien things were emerging. I was still crying, but now it was into my father's shoulder, and Uncle Jack was somber beside us, tears in his eyes as he watched his twin shake silently with grief. Carrie was stepping towards me, falling over and bursting in tears. And her cries turned to a siren, and the flashing stopped. Aqua eyes were meeting brown, blood spilling from a head wound, my chest tightened and my leg was white hot in agony. My fingers fumbled as I reached out, trying to stem the bleeding from the side of her head. Broken glass, and then more flashes. Purple light, a baby's hands holding my finger, hot chocolate, fireworks, a big sweater. But then that stopped too. The sirens were louder, why were they taking so long? What would happen if the aqua eyes shut? And then I was cheering as our team won, there was grass stained knees and faces stained orange from fruit, a bowl of popcorn on the couch, Thai food for dinner, staring at the stars through the car window, a train rushing past me and my heart in my throat, stuck to the roof, dodging balls in PE, floating objects around the room for the amusement of myself and my sister, it was her birthday. The sirens were louder, the pain intensified and the aqua dulled.
You are like me. Now there was a Russian accent in my head, and I could remember a room in a tall tower, the brown eyes of Peter parker. There was a bleacher now, Spiderman, metal wings, glowing green eyes. I was holding onto my mother's hand, she rushed up away from the playground as two older kids yelled FREAK after me. My mother was telling me that we're people that wouldn't understand, and squeezing my hand. Then I was against a bookcase, kissing someone. Peter, he was taller than me, his body warm. Would he understand? If I ever told him, or if he found out, then what? And words echoed, I drifted off and lost sight of the eyes, but I knew they were taking me into the ambulance. I couldn't yell, couldn't scream, the air was crackling, they didn't understand, they had to save her first. You can't tell them, they can't know. My own voice was pleading. Please, don't tell any of them. The Russian accent was back, talking to me, and I could vaguely picture a girl.
I won't.
I believed her.